Two Nepali farmers from the Sarlahi district were released on bail from an Indian jail on August 7 after spending 38 days in custody for allegedly ‘smuggling’ fertiliser from India. They had crossed the border to buy fertiliser for their paddy fields: a routine practice in border areas where residents regularly purchase essential goods, including agricultural inputs, from across the frontier whenever domestic supplies run short.

Driven by desperation to secure enough fertiliser for their annual staple crop, their experience reveals the plight of thousands of Nepali farmers who, ahead of every planting season in May–June, anxiously track two things: the skies, hoping for timely and adequate rain, and government depots, waiting for fertiliser. For far too long, uncertainty on both fronts has disappointed them. Inadequate rainfall and unreliable fertiliser supplies remain two of the most critical and overlooked constraints in Nepal’s agriculture sector, despite successive governments’ plans and policies claiming to prioritise agriculture in public spending.

Nuances often overlooked

As debates over Nepal’s declining food production continue in academic circles and policy corridors, the practical nuances that keep the agricultural system functioning are often overlooked. The case of these two farmers has brought one of the most critical of these nuances into sharp focus: the heavy reliance on cross-border sources of agricultural inputs. Unlike in previous years, when small quantities of fertiliser for personal use were generally permitted, Indian authorities have now adopted a stricter approach. This tighter enforcement may not be coincidental; it follows Nepal’s own stricter customs measures, which impose duties on merchandise valued above Rs500 (previously Rs100) entering from India, which has impacted Indian border markets dependent on Nepali customers. These developments have introduced a degree of strain into bilateral relations, affecting communities on both sides of the border.

When domestic fertiliser supplies run short, farmers in the Tarai region are often constrained to buy from markets across the border. That desperate measure proved costly for these two men, who not only spent more than five weeks in jail but also faced sharply reduced harvests this year for lack of fertiliser. Their ordeal highlights deeper weaknesses in Nepali agriculture: the persistent uncertainty of fertiliser availability just before the main planting season, a problem successive governments did not address effectively; the desperation that pushes farmers to seek inputs wherever they can; and the way shifting relations with neighbouring countries shape the daily lives, livelihoods and local economies of communities that depend on cross-border trade.

Loss of food production, for whatever reason, be it lack of inputs, disasters or diseases and pests, is not merely a farmers’ issue; it is a national concern of immense gravity affecting us all. Any problem farmers face anywhere in the country signals a shortcoming in our agricultural pursuit and must be addressed accordingly. For instance, dry spells in the middle of the monsoon, once rare exceptions limited to a few areas, have become routine. In 2022, farmers in western Nepal were forced to abandon their newly planted crops and move across the border to earn a living after a prolonged dry spell. In 2026, farmers in Salyan and Banke districts couldn’t plant paddy due to inadequate rain. Likewise, delayed monsoon rains in October damaged ready-to-harvest paddy across large swaths in both 2021 and 2025.

These and other similar episodes have long sent clear distress signals calling for meaningful, ground-level support. Yet, we have consistently failed to interpret them correctly or respond with the required urgency. Consequently, agriculture has gradually lost its appeal, driving many farmers to abandon farming in favour of the labour market.

Rising food deficit

The state’s prolonged failure to answer these calls is starkly reflected in Nepal’s relentlessly rising food import bill, which has doubled over the past eight years. In the last fiscal year alone, the country imported food worth Rs434.26 billion, making food its second-largest external dependency after petroleum products. The issue is not so much the volume of imports itself, because every country imports food at some scale. The difference lies in the nature of that dependence.

Many of the world’s largest food-importing nations are also among the wealthiest. However, when a country like Nepal imports food to meet basic sustenance needs, the resulting external dependence becomes a serious vulnerability, especially when a significant share of national income comes from remittances, which currently account for over a quarter of GDP—the highest among countries in the region. Imported food cannot secure long-term resilience; the only sustainable path to limit import bills is to strengthen local production.

In the face of mounting climate challenges, our failure over the decades to address nuances in agriculture is likely to cost us more than we may presume. The United Nations has warned that the rapidly developing El Niño weather system is likely to push about 50 million people globally into acute hunger before the end of 2027, in addition to the hundreds of millions already facing dangerous levels of food insecurity. South and Southeast Asia are likely to get less rainfall than usual, causing serious problems for agriculture. This foreboding should serve as a critical reminder that this fast-approaching crisis will be far greater than any we have faced before. How will we manage the El Niño fallout when we haven't even been able to ensure a reliable supply of fertilisers?

Governance challenge

The current government is committed to taking strict measures to improve governance, yet the pace at which these changes are being pushed through feels abrupt. Any reform is bound to fail if the system is not prepared to absorb it. Deep-rooted mismanagement, however unacceptable, cannot be undone overnight. Existing systems have long adapted to involve complex linkages across different layers of society; these interdependencies must be carefully considered when addressing governance, particularly in cross-border markets and their linkages with agriculture that feeds the nation.

Understanding these interdependent connections is essential before attempting broader governance reforms. Effective improvement requires a clear grasp of the lives of those at the lowest rungs of society, particularly the lives of the thousands who till the soil to make a living. This will not happen without practical measures that address the full range of underlying issues. Addressing them requires understanding social norms, policies and institutions formed deep in history. Those details determine whether policies work or fail.

As long as those who plough the fields and grow our food end up in jail while following ordinary practices, or are driven across the border when drought ruins their harvest, we cannot claim to be acting in the true interests of the citizens in whose name we seek better governance. Meaningful change must begin from the bottom, not the top. Otherwise, corrective measures risk harming those most in need of support and protection, causing them to lose faith in the very government they elected with a supermajority.